


The Arcade

by red_balloons_of_derry



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Arcades, Derry (Stephen King), Hands, My First Fanfic, One Shot, Richie Tozier Has ADHD, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-31 02:44:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21054119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red_balloons_of_derry/pseuds/red_balloons_of_derry
Summary: Richie Tozier is spending his summer in the arcade teaching Eddie the ropes of Street Fighter.





	The Arcade

**Author's Note:**

> Edited and proof-read by desert_bluffs_and_me ! This is my first fic. :')

_ Derry, Maine, Summer of 1989. _

The arcade was a bustling menagerie of sights and sounds perfect for a child like Richie who, for all intents and purposes, craved stimulation more than anything in the world. 

The scent of soda and hotdogs penetrated Richie’s surroundings as he stared intently at the screen in front of him - naturally, he had to train. Training was paramount if you wanted to become the best at Street Fighter and have something you could be proud of. His fingers danced across the board of the machine, flicking and hitting the buttons and knobs with skill that (in his parent’s opinion) could be put to better use. However, this was Richie’s favourite way of spending his summer, no matter how disheartened his parents were that this idiot child of their loins was not going outside and making something of himself.

Anyway, that would take up too much of his time. He had to train. 

Richie let his fingers leave the buttons for a split-second in order to push his bottle-bottom glasses up the bridge of his nose. He heard the familiar sound of the arcade complex’s doors being swung open with unnecessary force. He did not look up, because let’s be honest, it was probably just another kid entering the building to waste his summer away training for the Big Leagues. 

However, the whirlwind of fortune was about to become a tornado as the familiar hands of Eddie Kaspbrak slapped the side of the Street Fighter machine to grab Richie’s currently unwavering attention. Richie did not look up - he was in the zone right now, fixated on what he was doing with the hustle and bustle of his surroundings almost blocked out. With another swift bang on the machine Richie was brought back into reality and a subtle gasp left his lips once he noticed just who he was ignoring - followed by a wave of relief. 

“Jesus Christ, Eds, I thought you were Bowers. Minus the height.” 

Eddie just gave Richie a crooked smile, crinkling his nose up at the nickname as he shoved Richie to the side in order to get in on the action. “Let a real master take the wheel, Rich.” He chuckled, trying to take over as Richie finally let go of the buttons. “You’ve been here all day you loser, you need a break.” 

Richie stretched an arm over his head, “Sure thing Spaghetti, my fingers were starting to cramp anyway. Kinda like when your mom takes four fingers up-” 

“Shut the fuck up I don’t need this right now.”

Eddie was clearly not as well-versed in such a skillful game as Richie was, but then Eddie did not spend all his summer cramping himself over the glaring screens in the arcade. 

_ His mom wouldn’t let him _ . Richie quietly watched as Eddie painfully got his ass well and truly kicked, eyes cascading down towards the other boy’s fingers as they slowly mashed at the buttons. He was intrigued. They were certainly slender for a boy and Richie imagined they were just as soft, as though they’d never even written the words ‘hard work’. That was probably his mother’s fault, if anything. 

Eddie was being methodical in comparison to the other’s speed and Richie’s mind started to wander back to just how it must feel to interlock-- “ _ \--ie… _ ” those fingers between his own-- “ _ \--chie…!”  _ and just hold onto-

“Richie! Hello? Earth to Major Trashmouth, wake up!” Eddie held up his fingers, snapping in Richie’s face with a mixture of annoyance and concern as Richie just fumbled with those thick glasses adorning his face. Was he embarrassed? He just noticed his friend’s hands in a way that he’d never really noticed before. 

“Dude, are you okay?” Eddie started to frown with concern for his friend, snapping his fingers again. Richie just flashed a grin to cover up his  _ almost obvious  _ embarrassment, motioning back to the game in front of them. 

“Lemme show you how to  _ actually _ play. You know, instead of whatever the fuck you were doing.” He let out an obnoxious snort in conjunction with laughter as he maneuvered himself behind Eddie, his long arms wrapping around the smaller boy.

Eddie would later consider the experience to be ‘strangely comforting’ as the years drew in. Richie took hold of Eddie’s hands and placed them where they should be on top of the controls, his own hands on top of the other’s. 

“Okay.” Richie started, feeling a catch in his throat, “Let’s fight.” 

They both started to mash at the buttons, Eddie letting Richie take the lead in what his hands were doing - however, Richie Tozier was not a graceful boy and there were countless times where he forgot his hands were on top of Eddie’s, bashing them against the buttons. 

“Oh fuck,” Richie laughed, while Eddie would complain constantly about his mother ‘having kittens over these bruised fingers’. 

Richie would remark in later years, while the burning of an indescribable emotion welled up inside his stomach like a ball, slowly moving up to his chest as though some creature had made its habitat inside of him, that Eddie’s hands really were as soft as they looked. He’s pretty sure he used moisturiser. That would have explained the scent on his own hands later.

Richie’s heart was racing and it occurred to Eddie that he could feel the other boy’s heartbeat against his back, but it was obviously because Richie got  _ too _ into certain hobbies and his face would gently flush with adrenaline. However, for whatever reason, Richie was doing  _ terribly  _ at this round - his hands were fumbling, he was shoving Eddie against the machine and he was clearly becoming irate that his concentration was not co-operating. Eddie took a moment to glance up at him, smiling in a playfully mocking way once the game had finally come to an end.

“Wow, you really suck at this.”

For a moment, Richie Tozier was genuinely upset that he did so badly and he just couldn’t pin-point why. But he knew well enough. Eddie wrapped an arm around him with a swift pat on the back as if to say ‘it’s really not that serious’. Richie’s hands were balled into fists once he let go of Eddie’s, wanting to keep the feeling of the other boy’s hands against his own for just a little longer--

“Anyway, I gotta go. I didn’t tell mom that I was gonna be in here. Do you know how many people don’t wash their hands before playing on these things?” Eddie almost turned away to leave and run off with all the grace of a newborn gazelle. But he paused, a thought openly crossed his face as though he had something to say. Or, was he waiting for Richie?

Richie’s mouth parted with a tiny gasp as though the words are once again stuck in his throat, clawing their way to the top without ever escaping. Eddie was almost bemused, as though he knew what Richie wanted to say, but in the same breath was completely unaware. 

“Cat got your tongue, Trashmouth?” 

Richie’s eyes fell back to Eddie’s hands hanging loosely by his sides, constantly replaying the feel of the heat prickling his skin with all the guilty pleasure a boy should not be acquiring from another boy. No, not here. Anywhere but here. Richie could sense the atmosphere of the arcade growing colder the longer he stalled. Closing in on him. His heart raced. The arcade’s whimsical noises started to pierce his ears painfully. Why couldn’t he just  _ say _ something--

“I’m saving my tongue for your mom, Eds. You’d better get back.”  _ Crap _ .

Eddie sighed, shook his head and turned to leave. Not before giving Tozier a good flipping off. Richie didn’t hear Eddie’s parting words, he just went back to fixating on the screen. 

He wasn’t ready. Not yet. It was safer this way.  
  



End file.
